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Guardian (High Tide)
Guardian is an encounter in High Tide. Enemies * Guardian of the Ruins (Guardian) (100 Gold, 100 XP, 100 Energy, 2 HP) Transcript Introduction "This doesn't lead to the temple," Jonas remarks, squinting into the trees. The remains of an ancient stone road bisect your path. The road is so old that the jungle has reclaimed it. The crumbling old paving stones are coated in creeping moss and the stains of rain, the whole of it in the process of becoming one with the jungle floor. The crew might have passed by without notice had not Jonas spotted the marker. Worn away by time, the engraving is nothing more than a ghost on the rounded white stone to the side of the path. But tracing it now with your fingers, there's no mistaking the most storied sigil in West Kruna: The drake and the pitchfork. "This is the crest of the Kasan. It may not lead to the temple, but it's going to lead to something." You sound more sure than you feel. "Well, lead on." Marna hefts her hammer to her shoulder and begins rounding up the crew. The path is hard to follow and in places entirely lost to time, and you find yourself watching the ground for the stones hiding in bushes and the tangled roots of trees, drifting into deep thought. You wonder why it hadn't been your father or mother walking this path, or your sister, why their stories ended with a grave and yours with destiny. The jungle is quiet here and even Jonas doesn't break the tranquility with a wry remark. There is only the search for the path, your thoughts and the sound of muffled footsteps. Something deep in your mind shakes free of your reverie and a mental alarm goes off. The sound of just ONE set of muffled footsteps. Yours. You jerk your eyes up from the path and scan wildly. No one in sight. How long had you been out of it? Where had they gone? You feel muddled, as though your mind was struggling to clear away strong drink or heavy sleep. Ahead is a break in the jungle, and through it you spy shattered columns and bleached stone. "Maybe they're just ahead," you mutter, but as you push through the last branches you strongly suspect that whatever charms befell you in the jungle were put in place to bring you to the ruins alone. You stand at the mouth of a theater of crumbled stone. Empty rows of stone benches twisted with vines and choked with jungle flowers lead your gaze down to the stage. In the center, the focal point of the theater, you see an ornate pedestal. Something on top of it reflects the light, but you can't make it out from this distance. You pull your sword and stalk through the rows, creeping toward the stage. You can see and hear nothing to indicate another trap. You experiment with the eyepiece Jonas gave you, but see nothing. The theater is empty. You mount the stage and approach the pedestal, and you can see now that atop it is a dusty glass case, empty. And in the glass, a sudden reflection of-- You throw yourself to the side and into a sloppy roll that bruises your shoulder as you hear the projectiles keen through the space your head had recently been occupying. You hear the case explode with a crash of breaking glass that echoes through the theater. You roll into a crouch and raise your blade. Bits of glass fall tinkling to the ground behind you as you lock your eyes on a skeletal figure perched in the third row. It inclines its head in recognition as it lowers the crossbow that had been trained on you and drops it to the stone. It wears a delicate looking mask, bone white, and carries blades at its hips. It speaks in a rasping whisper, a voice like dead leaves blowing across stone, and you strain to catch the words. "Good. It has been so long." "Who are you?" Your voice is steady. The figure steps forward into the aisle, sliding its blades from their sheaths as it approaches, its footsteps not making a sound on the old stone. It moves with the fluid grace of a snake, but as it draws closer you can see that it is a thing long dead. A corpse on cat feet. "A guardian. Of sorts." "Guardian what? This ruin? I don't mean any harm here." "This ruin. The artifact that was in it. I was bound here by a favor, long ago. A task unfulfilled: Wait for the heir. Test his merit. Pass on the blade to he who cuts me down, deny all unworthy heirs. "But corruption," the thing sighs like a death rattle, makes a slight gesture past you, "and ruin came to this place. The blade was taken away. A dark and abhorrent magic wove my contract into a cage, swaddling this place in illusion, waiting to draw the right wanderer into the web and trap us both. I am bound to the body, and the body to the ruin, until slain by the heir." "The heir to the Kasan. Me?" "The same." "And unless I kill you, whatever brought me here won't let me leave this ruin." The corpse angles its head slightly, raises its twin blades. You take a step back and put your sword between you. "Why fight? Drop the blades and let me kill you and we'll both be free." "No. I cannot now pass on the artifact, but the instructions were clear. He must be worthy. "I may be a prisoner, but I am still a professional." The Guardian of the Ruins spins toward you, a flash of death and steel. Conclusion You wearily deflect yet another surgical cut aimed to open your throat, and twist away, throwing yourself around the outstretched blade with your sword raised high. You bring it down with all your might, cleaving through the Guardian's shoulder, collarbone, ribs, diagonally across the torso. Your strike cuts it nearly in two. The corpse slides from your sword and crumples, its blades clattering to the stone. There is no blood. You step back and eye the undead Guardian warily, unsure if it will rise. An orb of red light coalesces from the remains, and you back away, on your guard. The orb rises, then pauses at eye level, and you hear the dead leaves on the stale air. "My obligation is fulfilled. You will agree, there is much to do. For each of us. We will meet again, Heir, and I wonder if you will still be worthy then." The orb of light snaps through the air toward the jungle and is gone, lost in the treeline. You stagger away, off the stage and up the aisle, and out of the ruins the way you came. The jungle is no longer quiet, it buzzes with insects and the call of birds high in the foliage. The path is clear, as is your head. Whatever charm held the place has been lifted, and it's a simple task to track the overgrown road back to the path. Your crew looks up with a collective expression of worry and fear as you step out of the jungle, and you can't help but laugh at their slack confusion. "Don't worry, I didn't die before you got paid. So where have you guys been?" Marna is the first to recover. "We lost you in the jungle, Jonas kept leading us back to the path --" "It wasn't me, damn it! I keep telling you there's something damned wrong about that road!" "-- and we were wandering around in there for an hour or so, with no sign of you. Eventually we came back here to regroup. Where were you? What happened to your face?" You wipe your wrist across your mouth and wince, and look down to see blood smeared across your hand. "I think I caught a pommel on the mouth at some point. Come on, we've wasted too much time here already. I'll tell you as we go." Category:High Tide